


a good excuse to put our love to use

by Sway



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Anal Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Married Couple, Near Future, Post-Series, Valentine's Day, post-511
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 16:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6203470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sway/pseuds/Sway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian is still snarky about Valentine's Day. But then he realizes that Justin has a secret admirer, and he'll have to be creative to keep his Sunshine...</p>
            </blockquote>





	a good excuse to put our love to use

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sevenwildwaysup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevenwildwaysup/gifts).



“You know… we really should… sync our calendars… again… soon…”

 

“What?”

 

“We hardly… see… each other… during the week.”

 

“And you want to color coordinate our filofaxes while I am fucking you with an eggplant.”

 

Justin can’t answer. Into his stifled laugh mixes a grunt and a moan, and he bites down on the back of his hand when he starts to cum.

 

Brian grins, taking pride in his husband’s almost instantaneous reaction. 

 

Of course, he loves fucking him. He loves fucking him more than he loves fucking anybody else. Hence the marriage and all the hetero doodads. But he also enjoys it tremendously when Justin is asking for one of their toys. He can’t be jealous of a plastic cock or a fancy glass vegetable. Instead, he just loves watching Justin come apart when he adjusts the angle just that one tiny bit.

 

Spent, Justin collapses on the ottoman, burying his face against his arm.

 

“You know, when they came to me with ‘Wanktables’, I never thought they’d sell a single one of these things but…” Brian rises from his spot behind Justin, patting his husband’s bare ass, “these free samples are well worth my while.”

 

“And mine.” Justin pulls himself up but immediately drops back down on his back, stretching his sore body. “That one is a keeper.”

 

“I’ll add that to the list of testimonials. ‘That one is a keeper’, said the well fucked artist after cuming all over the $2000 dollar leather ottoman.”

 

“Oh I know you can’t wait to try it yourself.”

 

“But not after I put this easy to clean glass dildo into the dishwasher.”

 

“Get me some water while you’re at it.”

 

“Of course, Dear.”

 

Brian returns with a beer for himself and bottled water for Justin. He sits down on the couch, cupping his own erection through his jeans. 

 

“You know, I was serious before.” Justin gets up and sits down next to him, his pants still halfway down his thighs. “You’re busy with your new accounts, and I have the show coming up on the 14th. We should… I don’t know… set up Date Night or something. So we see each other aside from our bedroom.”

 

“I never heard you complain before.” Brian grins around the rim of his bottle.

 

Justin elbows him. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Yes, I do. But whatever we are doing, we are not calling it Date Night.”

 

“And what are we calling it then?” Justin’s free hands travels down between his husband’s legs, giving his cock a firm squeeze. 

 

“It’ll be Get On Your Knees and Suck Me Off Night if you do that again.”

 

“As long as you’re free on the 14th…”

 

“For your show, yes. For what I think you’re implying? Fuck no.”

 

*

 

“This is Justin. I can’t pick up the phone right now. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

 

Justin’s phone goes to voicemail for the seventh time today. Not that Brian is in particular need to talk to him. All he wants is to cancel their after work drink plans because a video conference came up with a client in California. He has left said voicemail, but is still waiting for a reaction.

 

So much for setting a fixed night for them both. 

 

Not that Brian doesn’t understand the importance of Justin’s upcoming show, and that he has been working his pretty ass off in the last couple of weeks to get everything together. But deep down he can’t shake off that slight sting of annoyance. It was Justin’s idea after all and now he is going all incommunicado.

 

When Brian returns to their condo, Justin isn’t home yet. Which isn’t surprising since he hardly ever comes home before ten at night. And when he does, he is often covered in paint specks, he is grumpy and more often than not, he is too tired to fuck. Which is saying something. 

 

After he’s opened himself a beer, Brian plays the two messages on their answering machine. The first one is from Jennifer, announcing she’ll be coming to Justin’s show (and not to worry, she’ll be staying in a hotel and no she won’t let either of them pay for it). The second is from Justin, telling him he won’t be making it for their date and that he doesn’t have time to answer his phone and that he's just out to grab a bite to eat before going back to the studio. 

 

Brian could call Jerome, ask him out for drinks, but he refrains. For one, his PA lives uptown and it would take him to long to get back to Soho. And if he is honest with himself, Brian doesn’t mind having the place to himself for a little while. He spends his entire day being surrounded by people and their demands, so it isn’t even so bad spending the evening by himself. So he puts some music on, rolls himself a joint from the weed some guy sells from a coffee cart in front of his office, and lounges on his couch. 

 

He wakes up when Justin comes home.

 

“What time is it?” he mumbles, fumbling his way back into consciousness. 

 

Justin shucks out of his jacket and kicks off his shoes in the way Brian hates. “Quarter to twelve.” He pads over to the fridge for a bottled water. 

 

“Shame you missed out on Date Night. I was on a roll.”

 

“Don’t start. I tried to get out but…”

 

“You never know when the muse kisses you.” Brian has crossed the room and wraps an arm around Justin’s neck, drawing him in. As if to illustrate his words, he pulls Justin flush against him for a long kiss. “Want me to eat you out?”

 

Justin leans against him, nuzzling against his neck. “Yes, please.”

 

Tangled against each other, they make their way to the bedroom and Brian has Justin out of his stained clothes in no time. Justin flops down on the bed, pliant and ready, and soon enough, Brian dives down for him, spreading him open for what he intends to be a long and drawn-out rim job.

 

As soon as he has his tongue up Justin’s crack, however, he hears a sound that isn’t a horny as all hell moan. It’s a snore. 

 

Brian looks up Justin’s body. He has his head cradled on his arms, his mouth slightly agape, and he is sound asleep.

 

“Really?” Once more, he runs his tongue over the sensitive puckered skin, but Justin doesn’t stir. “Again?”

 

When did they turn into this? Into the couple who is too tired to fuck each other’s brains out even if it’s past midnight? Of course, it’ll be easier once Justin’s show opens but still… 

 

Instead of fucking that beautiful heart-shaped ass into oblivion, Brian rises from the bed, tugs the blanket out from underneath Justin and covers his prized possession. Then he undresses himself, his own erection painfully neglected for the time being, and tosses his and Justin’s clothes onto the valet in the corner.

 

With a clatter, Justin’s phone falls to the floor. Brian picks it up and the screen comes to life to show his last five missed calls as well a text and two more calls from someone Justin has in his contacts as Ricardo. There is a little flower next to his name. Twisting his face in disgust, Brian puts the phone back into Justin’s back pocket and folds the garment up on the valet. Somehow he doesn’t quite feel like jerking off anymore. 

 

*

 

“So who is Ricardo?”

 

It’s so inappropriate to ask something like that when you have your dick down your husband’s throat, one of his fingers brushing over your prostate, driving your nearly insane. 

 

Justin pulls back, releasing Brian’s cock with a wet pop. “What?”

 

“Your little flower emoji.”

 

Justin dives back down over Brian’s harder than hard erection. “Are you snooping around on my phone?”

 

“It fell from your pocket. Oh jesus fuck, do that again...” Brian tilts his hips up, giving Justin more space to insert a second finger. 

 

“You know what? I’ll tell you who he is if you can cum in the next thirty seconds.”

 

“You fucker.” Brian barely gets the words out before Justin is all around him again, sucking him off with gusto, fingering him open.

 

Maybe it’s the prospect of getting behind the mystery of Flower Emoji guy. Maybe it’s that Justin gives one of hell of a blowjob. Maybe it’s both these things.

 

Brian comes in thick ropes down Justin’s throat, releasing all the pent up pressure and horniness from the night before. He can barely hear Justin’s words over the rush in his ears when he finally comes down from his high.

 

“He is the barista at the Coffee Bean down the street from the studio.” Justin laps up the last drop of cum. “I invited him to the opening. But I think he’d like another opening better.”

 

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Brian grins. “That opening is mine.”

 

“Are you jealous?” Justin teases as he crawls up Brian’s body, straddling his hips only to trap Brian’s very sensitive cock between their bodies.

“Never.”

 

*

 

For some reason, Ricardo becomes a fixed point. More often than Brian would like, Justin receives a call or a text from the guy. When they talk on the phone, it often takes more than a few sentences and somehow it irritates Brian.

 

He isn’t jealous. Not in the strictest sense. He and Justin have been married for five years, and since last month… well, they've been doing it raw. He knows for a fact that there is nothing going on between Justin and the Flower Emoji but still…

 

Maybe it’s the whole talk of Valentine’s (of course, his sex toy client also wants to release a corresponding set of products) that makes him a little more… sensitive to the subject. As sensitive as one Brian Kinney can possibly be. He would never admit that, of course.

 

In the days leading up to the show, Brian hardly ever sees Justin. The only time they are in the same room is when they are in bed, and most of that time Justin is too tired to fuck. Sometimes they manage to give each other a blow job, and even that is kind of hasty and of the “let’s do this quickly before I pass out”variety.

 

On the Friday before the show, Brian has an appointment with a client in the neighborhood of Justin’s studio. After he’s done listening to the client drone on for an hour how he wants to branch out his business, he decides to swing by the studio. Not without taking a detour to the coffee shop.

 

There are only two more customers waiting to place their orders when Brian enters the shop. A petite blonde is working the cash register where Brian orders triple espresso for himself and a soy vanilla latte for Justin. He is just in luck that Ricardo is the barista on shift today.

 

He has to hand it to the kid. He is gorgeous, definitely fuckable. Not really someone who he would have pegged to be Justin’s type but he makes his sweet talk equally well as he does his coffee. He also has a poker face for he neither flinches nor hesitates when he calls the drinks for Brian and Justin. 

 

Brian can’t help but tease. “Thank you… Ricardo, is it?”

 

“So it says on my name tag.” The boy flashes him a pearly white smile that goes well with his dark complexion and coiffed black hair. “Have a good day, sir.”

 

“Yeah, you too.”

 

Brian isn’t quite sure if he’s supposed to be offended or impressed by this kid. He is sure Ricardo knows who he is, he must know. So Brian lingers for a moment but Ricardo is already working on the next drink, some fancy whipped cream topped extravaganza.

 

*

 

“I met your loverboy. Isn’t he a little too young for you? You are already over thirty.”

 

Justin accepts both the drink and a kiss from a Brian. “Please tell me you didn’t say something to him.”

 

“You mean like 'so you’re the guy who wants to dip his latte into my husband’s cup?'”

 

“Brian…”

 

“Relax, I was perfectly behaved.”

 

“You don’t know how to do that.”

 

“No, I don’t.” Brian proves his point by pressing a sloppy kiss to Justin’s mouth. “So, you’ve got time or are you busy pretending to be an artist?”

 

“Remind me again why I married you?”

 

“Because I fuck you into oblivion?”

 

“RIght. And that’s the only pro on the list.” Justin goes on tiptoes and reciprocates the kiss in kind. “Oh right, before I forget…” He walks over to one of his workbenches and digs through one of the cardboard boxes that pile up on it. He returns with an envelope that has a smudged paint stain on it. “Here’s your invitation for Sunday.”

 

“Which is nice getting on Friday. Do I need to R.S.V.P.?”

 

“You just need to show up on time and not be drunk.”

 

*

 

Brian won’t be drunk on Sunday. He’s not that much of a hater to do that. Not to Justin. He does, however, get drunk on the Friday just because he can and because Justin has texted him that he will be late and likely staying overnight at the studio.

 

So he spends the night at the condo, lounging on the couch with a bottle of whiskey within reach. 

 

Ever since he’s left the coffee shop, something has been bothering him but he can’t quite put a name to it.

 

It’s been firmly established that he doesn’t do jealousy or anything along that line. And yet he feels like he’s entered some sort of competition.

 

It isn’t like the Great Pittsburgh Fuck-Off from years ago where he had felt the need to prove that he still got 'it'. He doesn’t need to prove to himself or this city that he’s the man. He doesn’t even need to prove it to Justin, one of the great advantages of being married. And still....

 

It’s moments like this when he realizes why he has never wanted a steady relationship before. 

 

One night stands are easy. Fuck dates are easy. They don’t require much except for a hard cock and the right mindset. 

 

Relationships. Marriages. They require work. They are not something that ends once the door closes behind the Flavor of the Moment. That are something that stays, something that requires effort and attention. And of late, he has lacked both. Not intentionally, but they’ve both been so incredibly busy with their work that their marriage has taken the toll. 

 

And in comes Ricardo. Not at an actual competitor, but as someone who gives his attention to Justin when Brian himself doesn’t. Even if it’s just a smile and a wink when he orders his latte. 

 

Brian has to… _wants_ to do something.

 

*

 

The show is a success. As always. 

 

Honestly, Brian has stopped expecting anything less. 

 

New York’s high society can’t get enough of Justin’s paintings. Lawyers, doctors, managers… they all but fight about who gets to hang the latest Taylor. Brian doubt any of them know anything about art, but it’s always good to have an up and coming artist in the lobby, be it in person or on canvas.

 

Jennifer is close to tears when Justin gives his little speech, and Brian does his best to console her. All the while he keeps an eye on the crowd. Just to be sure that no eager barista is getting a hold of his husband unless he has enough tips saved to buy a $5000 painting.

 

The lanky guy is nowhere to be seen (his loss, really) so Brian can refocus his attention to the other guests. Every now and then enjoys being the Plus One, the Trophy Husband even. Unless somebody would actually call him that to his face.

 

Shortly after midnight, Jennifer excuses herself to her hotel. She hugs Her Boys goodbye, not without planting a big kiss on both their cheeks, and they promise her a late morning brunch.

 

“When can you get out of here without being an artsy git?” Brian leans into Justin, running a hand down his back.

 

“I am an artsy git.” Justin replies and he arches his hips back so that Brian’s hand just has to take a detour over his ass. “Maybe half an hour. I can’t leave before the guy from ‘nARTSy’. He will actually write the artsy git part. And he won’t be all cute about it.”

 

“Okay. Come find me at the bar.”

 

“Where else would I find you?”

 

“Up your ass.”

 

“Not yet.” Justin goes on tiptoes and seals what Brian will definitely take as a promise with a long kiss. The nARTSy guy is making hurried notes.

 

*

 

They take a cab home and for almost the entire ride, Brian’s hand rests on Justin’s cock, his erection barely concealed by his pants. He doesn’t stroke him - not yet - but the simple touch is enough to get him hard. That and the ridiculous amount of money - five digits, mind you - that Justin was able to make in one night. 

 

Once they reach the condo, it’s no holds barred.

 

Justin is on his knees in no time, freeing Brian from his pants, greedily sucking him into his mouth. 

 

“Christ…” Brian pants, swaying precariously on his feet. “Why haven’t you done this sooner?”

 

Justin pulls back to look up at him, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m not a performing artist.”

 

“Au contraire.” Brian curses under his breath, but has enough of it left to order Justin to stop. “Bedroom.”

 

“How boring are you?” Justin does comply and stumbles off into the master bedroom, discarding his clothes on the way. He stops in the doorway with his shirt off and his pants halfway down his ass. “What’s that? Are you divorcing me?”

 

“Open it.” 

 

They both know Brian is talking about the envelope on Justin’s pillow, but while he’s at it, he might as well snake a hand down Justin’s crack, finger teasing his opening. 

 

For a moment, Justin rocks his hips back against the subtle intrusion, then he steps forward, lurches himself onto the bed and grabs the envelope.

 

“You’re kidding!?” Justin exclaims a little astounded.

 

“I don’t kid.”

 

“Vermont. Five star hotel. Lift tickets.”

 

“All expenses paid.”

 

Justin turns on his back to look at Brian. “Why now?”

 

Brian shrugs as nonchalant as he can. “It’s long overdue. I promised I’d take you and never did.” He approaches, puts one knee on the bed and leans down over Justin. “We have brunch with your mom tomorrow and then we’re off to fuck and frolic in the snow.”

 

“I like the way you think.” Justin wraps an arms around Brian’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

 

Losing his balance, Brian supports his weight on one arm as the kiss deepens. In the days and weeks leading up to the show, they’ve been so deprived of each other that he all but devours Justin, his free hand snaking underneath Justin's shirt to find his warm skin.

 

There’s a bit of an awkward struggle when Brian tries to pull the annoying garment over Justin’s head while their mouths are still fused together.

 

Justin solves their problem by pushing Brian off him and getting back to his feet. He does a little show of undressing himself, making a point to give Brian a good, long look at his ass and the plug nestled between his cheeks as he bends over to untie his shoes.

 

When he turns around again, his cock is standing proud, the tip glistening with precum. 

 

“Come here,” Brian beckons, sitting on the edge of the bed, “Let me suck you off.”

 

He doesn’t have to ask twice for Justin steps forward, giving his cock a lazy stroke. When Brian takes him into his mouth, Justin has to grip his shoulder for balance. His hips jerk forward, pushing his dick even farther down Brian’s throat.

 

“Why so eager today?” Brian pulls back for breath, looking up at Justin’s flushed face. 

 

“Selling my art makes me horny.” He leans down to kiss Brian, licking his way around his mouth as if to savour his own taste. “I wanna ride you tonight.”

 

“I like the way you think.” Brian gives Justin’s dick enough long slurp, letting the tip pop from his mouth with an obscene sound. 

 

“But first, you’ll eat my ass.” Almost reluctantly, Justin steps back only to climb on all fours onto the bed. With one hand, he reaches strokes his cock while he supports his weight on the other elbow, cradling his face against his arm.

 

Brian sheds his remaining clothes, skillfully maneuvering around his dick. At this point, he isn’t quite sure if could hold back that much longer if he were touching himself. 

 

He gives Justin’s ass a playful slap when he comes up behind him. It is a sight to behold, that’s for sure, and he can’t help run his hands over those glorious cheeks before he spreads them. He traces the outline of the plug, which sends a shiver up Justin’s spine. Then he dives down repeats the motion with his tongue and Justin curses under his breath. 

 

Grinning against the sensitive skin, Brian reaches between Justin’s legs to his cock and balls, giving him an agonizingly slow stroke. 

 

“Fuck…” Justin exclaims, pushing back into the touch. 

 

“Not yet.” Again circling the pink gem between Justin’s butt cheeks with his fingers, Brian traces the seam of his balls with his tongue. “Push back.” Annoyingly slowly, he pulls the plug from Justin’s hole, immediately lapping at the gape, tonguing him open the way Justin likes it. 

 

Brian is rewarded with a litany of curses. Eagerly, Justin pushes back against him, wordlessly begging for me. Brian won’t give into his demand just yet. He will take his time for now, trailing licks and flicks along the puckered skin, slowly pushing the tip of his tongue past the sphincter. 

 

Justin mumbles something against his arm and just because he can, Brian pulls back entirely. “I don’t understand a fucking word you’re saying.”

 

“Use. Your. Finger,” Justin enunciates with a hilarious amount of anger in his voice. 

 

Brian retrieves a bottle of lube from the nightstand and squirts a trickle down Justin’s crack. Spreading it in a slow circle around the hole, Brian complies and immediately pushes two fingers past those eagerly twitching muscles. When he pushes in and down, Justin’s almost kicks back at him. He repeats the motion once, twice, before Justin begins to fuck back against him. 

 

“Can you take more?” Brian teases, already aligning a third finger. He doesn’t wait for the answer. When Justin pushes back, his back arches with the sensation of being spread open even further. 

 

“Stop… stop it, please…” Justin pants after the fourth three-fingered fuck. “I wanna cum on your cock.”

 

Slowly, Brian eases his fingers out, gently caressing Justin’s opening before he wipes his fingers on the bedspread and flops down on his back.

 

Groaning, Justin gets back up on his knees and reaches for the lube. Before he drops a dollop of it on Brian’s cock, he takes him into his mouth. He goes almost a little too far, but neither of them cares about blow-job etiquette at this point. 

 

Lubed up and glistening, Brian lines up perfectly with Justin’s hole. He almost wants to push up, to claim that beautifully eager ass, but he holds back. He waits for Justin to sink down on him and when he does, Brian himself almost sees stars. 

 

Justin doesn’t take long to adjust and set a rhythm. It’s slow at first when he rotates his hips to find just the right angle. Soon he gets more demanding, really making good on his promise. His hands propped on Brian’s knees for balance, he lifts his hips only to drop down again, sheathing Brian’s cock inside of him down to the base.

 

It’s a glorious sight, seeing his cock slide in and out of Justin’s ass, paired with Justin's tightly furrowed brow and open mouth. It’s almost as glorious as feeling it.

 

They both know this won’t last long. They have both been too worked up for it to be a long and drawn-out fuck. They can always have that later tonight. Or tomorrow before brunch. Or maybe during brunch.

 

Trying to stay focused - and trying not to cum too soon - Brian reaches up and wraps his fingers around Justin’s cock. Precum leaks from his tip, coating his length and Brian’s hand alike.

 

Justin’s hips jerk at the touch and his head falls back but his body knows better. Immediately, he falls into a rhythm between riding down on Brian’s cock and pushing up into his fist. He speeds up his motions, seeking friction at every possible angle. 

 

“Can’t… I’m…” is all Justin can utter before he cums. He spills himself in thick ropes over Brian’s hand and his own belly, his entire body tightening around Brian like a coil.

 

Brian can barely hold on. He doesn’t want to cum while Justin does, he wants to let him feel it. If going bareback has only one advantage, it would be this, feeling the other in the most intimate way, in the deepest connection possible. So he grinds his teeth, waits for Justin to come down from his height, wait for him to go slack and slump down against him. His body feels impossibly hot and deliciously sticky, and it takes Brian a lot of willpower not to just give in.

 

Instead, he wraps his arms around Justin, trapping him against his body. Then he plants his feet against the mattress for leverage and starts thrusting up. At first, he goes slow to adjust to the angle, then he speeds up until his hips move in abandon. 

 

Justin moans and groans against his shoulder and he almost cums some more when Brian finally finds his own release. He shoots up into Justin’s tight heat and he keeps on cuming when Justin ever so slightly rolls his hips against him. 

 

Brian loves to feel them like this. He never thought he would but he does. It’s almost unbearably intimate, but feeling Justin around him when he cums is just beautiful.

 

They stay like that for a while, wrapped around each other in all sorts of ways. 

 

It’s Justin who pulls back first. And he groans a delicious little groan when Brian’s cock slides out of him. He arches his back and his shoulder pops.

 

“That was amazing.” Justin presses a slobbering kiss to Brian’s mouth that mimics pretty much what has just happened between them.

 

“I know you want more,” Brian gives back, running a hand over his face to wipe the sweat from his brow.

 

“I want all night.” He has the audacity to give Brian’s cock a quick stroke which is just too much right now.

 

“Fuck you.” Brian swats his hand away, but he can’t hide that he still hard. And willing.

 

“I’ll be right back.” Justin gets up from the bed and disappears into the bathroom. His ass looks deliciously rose and well fucked, and Brian can’t wait to have him again. As if on a misfortunate queue, Justin’s phone beeps. “Can you check that?” he calls from the other room.

 

Groaning, Brian twists onto his stomach and fishes the phone from Justin’s discarded pants. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 

“What?” Justin returns with a towel.

 

“Ricardo?” Brian holds up the phone that announces a new text.

 

“Yeah, about him…”

 

“What about that twat?”

 

Justin sits down next to him, unlocks the phone, quickly scans the message. Then he dials Ricardo’s number and puts it on speaker.

 

“Hi this is Daphne. I can’t come to the phone right now so leave a message.”

 

Brian looks from the phone to Justin then back at the phone. “Care to explain that?”

 

“I… may have made it up. Ricardo being interested in me.”

 

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

 

“It wasn’t even my idea. I was talking to Daphne a while ago and we both know how much you hate Valentine’s, but I thought it’d be nice to…”

 

“Have me make a fool out of myself at that coffee shop?”

 

“I didn’t make you go there.”

 

Brian buries his face against his arms. “So invented a secret admirer to get me to…”

 

“Get me that trip to Vermont as it turns out.”

 

“You’re an asshole, you know that, right?”

 

“But you love me.”

 

“Not right now.”

 

“Yeah you do.” Justin’s runs a hand down Brian’s back, inching a finger down his crack.

 

“You know you will be punished for this.” Despite his words, Brian pushes and let’s Justin slip his finger inside.

 

“And we have all week in Vermont do to that.”

“But first you gotta do somethin for me.” Brian looks up at him, one eyebrow raised as if to test him. “First you’ll go and get that glass dildo from the dishwasher and fuck me.”


End file.
